Shine
by CrypticCalico
Summary: Mrs. Lovett gets curious about one of Sweeney’s razors. Oneshot.


The morning had dawned bright and sunny, an extremely rare occurrence in a place like London. There was not a cloud to been seen, just the lovely blue expanse of sky sweeping overhead, as far as one could see in every direction. Light streamed through the dirty window of the Meat Pie Emporium on Fleet Street, bathing the dusty furniture in a pleasant golden glow. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood were already bustling about, enjoying the uncommon sensation of the sun's warmth on their faces.

And although Mrs. Lovett knew that most of her customers would be far too busy outside enjoying the sunshine to buy her pies, she was in an unusually cheerful sort of mood. But then again, it was an unusually cheerful sort of day.

Sweeney Todd sat at her kitchen table silently, brooding and deeply contemplative as usual. He twirled a razor between his pale, slender fingers, his usually irate black eyes strangely melancholy and distant. It was only on days like today that she noticed how truly colorless his face was, and just how dark the shadows around his eyes really were. He looked oddly out of place in the sunlit room.

Mrs. Lovett didn't exactly understand why he was in her kitchen at the present moment; being the reclusive person he was, she'd have thought today of all days he would be locked away in his barber shop upstairs, moping and pacing about. Perhaps he had been feeling particularly down and had sought a sympathetic face, one of the only things that she knew she could give him. She was quite sure that he did not prefer her company to that of his razors, or her dusty kitchen to his gloomy barbershop. She supposed that a beautiful day like this reminded him of Lucy, and he must miss her more than usual.

Mrs. Lovett was nonetheless flattered by his quiet presence, and blabbered away to fill the silence. He _did_ politely answer all of her questions, though with nothing more than civil replies. This did not bother her as deeply as it normally did; it was better than him not speaking to her at all, as he sometimes did. It seemed nothing could dampen her spirits today.

"Come on, love. You're gettin' too thin, you are," she fussed, smiling a little. Her heart fluttered as he turned his dark eyes upwards for an instant to meet hers. She turned around and plucked a small pie from the top of a stack on the far counter, dropping it onto a plate. "You've got to eat something. Here, dear, try this."

But when she turned back to the table with the dish, Mr. Todd was gone. Mrs. Lovett sighed as she stared at his empty chair. It was very disquieting that he could vanish so noiselessly without her noticing his departure. She placed the plate on the counter in front of her, and took a bite out of the pie herself.

"Oh well," she muttered, looking out the window, scrutinizing the passers-by. An abrupt glint of silver drew her gaze back towards the table.

"What in the world?" she murmured. She walked over to it curiously.

There, glinting in the bright sunlight that was streaming through the window, was one of Mr. Todd's most valued possessions: a razor.

Mrs. Lovett almost decided not to touch it, just to leave it there until he returned for it. But her inquisitiveness got the better of her. What was it that he loved so much about them? He was always polishing them, holding and staring at them, toying with them in his cautious, skillful hands. The closest Mrs. Lovett had ever come to seeing him smile was when he had a shining razor in each hand, and even then, his eyes were full of them and only them. She almost thought he held more affection for the infernal things than the few human companions that he had.

She picked it up carefully, turning it over in her hands. It _was_ quite beautiful; the meticulously cleaned blade was a wonderful, chaste silver colour. The carvings on the handle were extraordinarily intricate, marking the work of a well-accomplished craftsman. She held it up to the window. The shiny blade caught the sun delightfully, sparkling brightly in the light. She was almost mesmerized by the way it shone, dazzling and dancing. She twirled it slowly, careful not to let it shine in her face, admiring its elegance.

A sudden alarmed yelp caused her to jump and whirl around.

Sweeney Todd stood in the doorway, a look of utter shock on his pallid face. It was not seeing Mrs. Lovett with his razor that had caused him to cry out, however; the bright sunlight had reflected off the blade at just the right angle and had caught him full in the eyes, blinding him temporarily.

Mrs. Lovett's first impulse was to giggle. He did look quite comical; he'd stopped dead just past the doorframe, feet wide apart, arms spread for balance. He swayed dangerously on his feet, his face a picture of disorientation and surprise. His eyes were wide, blinking very rapidly, and his mouth was half open, still stunned. It was a very different expression than those he usually wore, and Mrs. Lovett found it incredibly humorous.

"Oh! I'm dreadfully sorry, Mr. T!" she cried, suppressing the laugh that threatened to escape from her lips. "Here, let me help you."

She rushed over to him and helped him maneuver around the furniture to the table. He sat down in the chair he had just occupied several minutes ago, still blinking furiously. Mrs. Lovett leaned her back against the counter, hands pressed to her mouth to stifle her laughter as she watched him slowly regain his vision.

"Are you trying to obliterate my eyesight, Mrs. Lovett?" he asked bluntly, a few moments later.

"No, Mr. T.," she replied. "I'm sorry. You left this 'ere, and I was picking it up to keep for you until you returned. I imagine this is what you came back for?" She held out the razor in her hand, trying to keep from shaking as a result of all the restrained laughter.

He took the razor from her, and she was almost sorry to see it go. _Goodness, _she thought to herself, _I've acquired a fondness for it, of all things! _It glinted brilliantly in the light as it switched hands. The sun shone brightly on Sweeney's face for a moment, and Mrs. Lovett saw suspicion in his eyes. It made her want to laugh all the more. She could not refrain any longer, and began sniggering madly. He shot her a confused look as she continued to chortle.

"What is it that has got you tittering away to yourself?" Sweeney demanded at last, his sight restored, his black eyes narrowed distrustfully. Mrs. Lovett knew that he hated being kept in the dark. She laughed harder.

"Out with it," he ordered, frowning as he became considerably more puzzled.

Mrs. Lovett giggled helplessly. The more baffled and perplexed he became, the more difficult it became for her to stop laughing.

Finally, Sweeney got to his feet. With one last, distasteful look at Mrs. Lovett, he stormed out, his re-found razor now clutched in his hand. She heard the sound of his footsteps thundering up the stairs outside, and then the faint bang of a door opening and closing.

After he had left, Mrs. Lovett subdued herself, and wiped the remnants of the tears of mirth from her cheeks. She walked over to a cupboard and began to take out the ingredients for a pie crust. She was in the highest spirits that she'd been in a long time, she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard. It had left her light-headed and smiling, and she felt more cheerful than she had when she'd awoken that morning to see the sun shining through her bedroom window.

She felt slightly bad that it had been at Mr. Todd's expense, but it wasn't her fault. He most likely would not have found it as amusing as she had, in any case. She smiled thoughtfully as she began to roll the dough.

The day Sweeney Todd learned to laugh at himself would be a fine day indeed.


End file.
